 | The Last Crusade |  |
39
OUR FIRST AND LAST LINE.
More than the thunder of the ships,
Within whose dreadful shadow lies
The world, when at their iron lips
They mould its deeds and destinies;
Behind the mandate of the Throne
Moving a realm with trumpet tone,
To dare all dazzling chivalries;
Clothed in the strength of history stand
Our women, Empire's corner-stone,
The glory of this English Land.
Within whose dreadful shadow lies
The world, when at their iron lips
They mould its deeds and destinies;
Behind the mandate of the Throne
Moving a realm with trumpet tone,
To dare all dazzling chivalries;
Clothed in the strength of history stand
Our women, Empire's corner-stone,
The glory of this English Land.
More than our argosies that toss
Upon a hundred tides and bring
The grander treasures of the Cross,
Truth's awful message from our King;
That spoil for splendid merchandise
The path of every paradise,
And make the earth their offering;
Haloed by Heaven with sceptred hand
Our regal women do uprise,
The glory of this English Land.
Upon a hundred tides and bring
The grander treasures of the Cross,
Truth's awful message from our King;
That spoil for splendid merchandise
The path of every paradise,
And make the earth their offering;
Haloed by Heaven with sceptred hand
Our regal women do uprise,
The glory of this English Land.
Behind our bulwarks' iron hold,
Crowned with the might of many years,
Grey human eyes and hair of gold
Betwixt us kneel and breath of fears;
They rampart us like the blue sky
With their great love and purity,
In prayers and sweet immortal tears;
Above our petty strife, they stand
On stages of eternity,
The glory of this English Land.
Crowned with the might of many years,
Grey human eyes and hair of gold
Betwixt us kneel and breath of fears;
They rampart us like the blue sky
With their great love and purity,
In prayers and sweet immortal tears;
Above our petty strife, they stand
On stages of eternity,
The glory of this English Land.
| The Last Crusade | |